


twitter loves their conspiracy theories

by melancholycandies



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Conspiracy Theories, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), More tags later, Swearing, Youtuber AU, beauty guru stuff, hope this hasn't been done yet lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17883581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melancholycandies/pseuds/melancholycandies
Summary: YOUTUBER AUKeith enjoys teaching step by step Muay Thai, random knife tricks and talking about conspiracy theories on his channel. Lance enjoys collabs with other YouTube beauty gurus, step by step make-up looks and doing dumb shit with his friends during his free time, all while recording and posting it online.Keith tells his viewers to send through celebrity conspiracy theories so that he can pick one to talk about.Youtube celeb Razzle Dazzle Lance is the one who intrigues everyone the most,And they're not the only ones.(Or, the Youtuber AU no one asked for, and yet i felt the intense need to deliver)





	1. who knew conspiracies caused such an uproar?

“Holy shit.” Owlish, calculative eyes absorbed the title in disbelief, the words a rapid whisper.

Pidge’s mouse hovered over the notification, jaw slackened and pupils blown whenever something caught her off guard. This definitely was enough to send a tremor down her neck as her hands frantically scoured for the play button. She couldn’t deny the thrill of wanting to see what new theory would capture her attention during that time of the week, especially after pondering over the evidence that supported all sides of it. He evidently placed intricate detail into every second of the video, making sure to not only get his point across but for others to see why a certain theory had the possibility of being the truth.

Which is exactly why, when she felt the anticipated buzz of the notification from her phone in the middle of her lecture, she made a silent reminder of buying snacks which will last her longer than 30 minutes primarily due to the fact that today’s episode was special. In the previous video, he mentioned that he would be accepting requests for theories and would be selecting one to cover. Since then, suspense gnawed at her thoughts, leaving her on edge until his next video. With a reputation like his, the theories would continue to pull her further into the grey area between fake and real.

After hurriedly throwing her things on the couch – disregarding the complaining she’ll get from her roommate later –, she made a hasty grab for her laptop. Her arms thrummed with excitement, as she shoved on her headphones and clicked on the notification. She halted as the title appeared, the video on auto play and spat her drink all over the floor.

_RAZZLE DAZZLE LANCE IS THE LATEST MEMBER OF THE YOUTUBE BEAUTY GURU CULT?_

Then the shock seeped away, leaving behind a howling, trembling Pidge. Her laptop began to slip, momentarily grasping her attention long enough to pause the video, set aside the device and take off her headphones before she began laughing again. Because _holy fuck,_ out of all the people he could’ve gone for, he decided to talk about her best friend. Being in a _cult_ , out of all things.

In the last 10 years of their friendship, this was certainly news to her.

Remnants of giggles lingering, she resumed back to watching the video. Eagerness latched onto her as she paid attention to the first part of the video – which she missed because, well, consider her baffled.

“Welcome back everyone. There were a lot of requests but one name kept repeatedly popping up so I decided to cover this person. I don’t usually like to dig into gossip but as promised, I made an exception for this video,” a small pause took over before a picture – of the bronze beauty – appeared on screen. “Let’s talk about Razzle Dazzle Lance. A lot of you sent through theories regarding his personal life, but I decided to go with one that caught my eye….” She paused the video again, checking the time to see when her roommate said he would be back by.

Lance should be done filming his video soon.

“It’s common knowledge that he blew up pretty quickly, just like a lot of other youtubers on here. But there has been a rumour going around about all of these beauty gurus in a cult like group. Truth be told, I don’t personally believe this but like I’ve said on this channel, an open mind is an important one. Here’s what I found in this past week….” She spent the next 45 minutes indulging in the _thoroughly_ convincing evidence that supposedly tied her best friend to this cult.

By the time the front door swung open, revealing the teasing, breezy smirk of her best friend and roommate, Pidge had finished scrolling through the chaos of twitter and astounded tweets. The internet was filled with frantic tweets, flabbergasted expressions and mixed opinions on Future Survivalist 101’s video of their beloved online celeb. As predicted, the video blew up after an hour of floating around and successfully catching the attention of a few avid fans of the favoured beauty guru. She couldn’t wait to see Lance’s reaction to the whole ordeal.

“How’s my favourite angry gremlin? Was it too much being away from me for the whole day?” Amused, exuberant words echoed their apartment, pulling Lance into the living room.

“Still living and breathing unfortunately,” she retorted, a slight tone of humour coating her response.

“Where’s Hunk? Shouldn’t he be back from the restaurant by now?” His voice grew distant as he walked into the kitchen, the sound of slow shuffling footsteps and a quick click of the kettle overlapped their conversation.

“Sent a text earlier, said that he would be back late because he wanted to experiment with a few dishes.” She smelt the brewing mixture of passionfruit and earl grey travel from the kitchen to the living room.

She continued to flick through the different tabs on her desktop, all updating with fresh, feverish hysteria. She clamped her lips shut to keep from bursting into another round of laughter.

_@raging_conspiracies tweeted: DJHDJ I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BELIEVE ANYMORE HOW IS HE   NOT CONVINCED BY HIS OWN THEORY HOLY SHIT_

_@inlovewithlance tweeted: when I first saw the title, I laughed but now I’m thinking about all the other youtubers in this cult and where do I sign up?_

_@babydollpink tweeted: y’all fake as hell if you think he isn’t part of some secret society group. have you seen that boy’s skin?? never have I seen anything clearer in my life._

_@beautyguru_enthusiast tweeted: Ok but there isn’t even enough proof to back up the existence of this so called “cult”._

_@interested-in-the-tea replied: that’s something a leader of a cult would say._

“What are you doing?” He strode across the aged, lyptus floorboards and landed on the couch with an exaggerated ‘oof’. 

“Trying to figure out how I missed you becoming the new recruit of the Youtube Beauty Guru cult.” She posed it to be a nonchalant answer, waiting a few moments for her words to sink in and-

“ _What?_ ” A dumbfounded expression looked back at her.  

“Here, take a look at this.” Pidge shifted on the cushion, angling her laptop screen for him to witness the unstable mess.

“Pidge, I’m too tired for another one of your pranks. Beauty takes time and effort; it took me hours to rub off this makeup at Allura’s.” He spares the screen a brief glance before tilting his head back on the couch.

“I have better things to do than to make this up.” She casts a pointed look his way, eyebrows arched in a way that made him realise that maybe she _wasn’t_ making this up.

He leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to scan the content on her screen. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, she watched him gradually digest the information until-

“ _What the fuck?_ How did this even happen?!” He lunged for her device, pulling it into his lap and scrolling through the uproar of tweets.

“Who started this?” He seethed at her screen – rapidly flicking through all her tabs – scouring to find the source until he comes across the video that sent the internet into a spiral within an hour.

She watched him spit out his tea onto the floor.

\- красный и синий -

“Was it really necessary to mention that I’m a part of the ‘Youtube Beauty Guru’ cult, _again_?” Allura lifted her fingers to quote the name, not bothering to look over her shoulder, before resuming back to her stance.

Sweat collected around her neck, dripping down her back as she prepared for a roundhouse kick. Keith leaned against the wall, arms crossed, feeling his own heat and adrenaline from the extensive training session. He watched as she swung her right leg, powering the kick and twisting her body around to face him. The dense sandbag trembled behind her as she walked over to him, grabbing her bottle from his outstretch hand.

“It’s good to keep an open mind.” He played off her question with a smirk.

“According to some of my commenters, we’ve recruited a new member?” She returned the expression, playful mischief toying her lips.

“The viewers asked for it. My inbox was swarming with that guy’s name and they would’ve called me out for not mentioning him at least once. Didn’t even know he existed until I started researching.” Keith shrugged off the wall, steadying the sandbag.

He didn’t tell her about the state of intrigue he laid buried within as he delved further into the flamboyant, energetic deep blues – and all of that poetic bullshit – and vivacious smirk that wandered around in the back of his head, even now. He had spent days, repeatedly sourcing through different articles, interviews and videos just to find out about the sun-kissed charmer. It started out to be a project, to gather as much evidence as he could to support a theory he couldn’t even begin to believe in; curiosity held him hostage, lulling him into finding out the minor details of the boy – like what kind of flower he preferred, or what type of snack is his guilty pleasure. However, now he can leave all the information aside and focus on future content.

“I have done a few videos with him, I can see why others would think he’s a part of our ‘cult’,” she dragged out the last word; he knew she air quoted it without even sparing her a glance, “he’s very energetic and has one of the smoothest faces I’ve ever seen. Although, you got a few things wrong in the video.” He faltered for a moment, fingers gripped into position, legs pulsing with energy.

He shook off her comment, adjusting his posture to make sure he wouldn’t end up with anything more than just sore muscles, and swung his right leg. Muscle memory engrained, he felt his bare shin connect with the bag, light pink imprint of the bag gradually making its mark. Landing firmly on his feet, he fluidly shifts into position, swiftly swinging his left leg backwards to meet the top of the bag. A slow round of applause followed straight after, his furrowed eyebrows now eased into a relaxed expression.

“Excellent work Keith, you’ve grown so much in these last few months! Have you reconsidered my offer to join the competition? It’s not too late, I can talk to the hosts and work something out.” An encouraging smile made its way to her face, firm expression friendly.

“I’m not doing it.” He scowled as he faced the bag again, instantly deflecting her openly amiable suggestion.

Despite picking up the sport roughly a year ago, Keith had never felt more comfortable in a centre like the Lions MMA Arena. He still recalled the hesitance that drove him away from the place, despite the constant encouragement by his older brother Shiro, a trainer at the centre alongside his best friend Allura. Keith had met her through one of Shiro’s frenzied study sessions, back in high school, with her maintaining a serene, genial smile as the introductions were exchanged, alongside an _extremely_ stressed out and dishevelled Shiro. With her ability to maintain calm during one of Keith’s – many – frustrated outbursts and a flair for fiery wittiness, instantly levelled her up to the best friend status.

Being close with an ardently loving and cordial person like her felt like a refresher; her ability to envelope you in comfort and pose as an anchor clung to him throughout the last five years. That being said, she never failed to _heavily encourage_ him into trying out new things. Mixed martial arts being one of the said things. She had been pestering him for months on end to try out a session the moment she landed a job as a trainer at the centre.

With a begrudged mumble and an eye roll later, he found himself at the front counter of the place, with a light duffle bag slung over his shoulder and loose fitting gym clothes. Those were the only items of clothing deemed worthy of working out in; he didn’t have many of them seeing as he spent majority of his time shovelling through the internet for evidence to back up his theories and trying not to get booted out of his university.

He got kicked out of his university about a month after Allura began nudging him towards “working out his pent-up anger through healthy, physical methods”.

That being said, after several stubborn denials, he decided to sign up for once a week classes. Which, in a few weeks, turned into daily training sessions that would extend from an hour to a few, depending on who pissed him off that day and by how much. Shiro would express his concern through simple ‘are you okay’s and ‘maybe we should take a break’s until he realised that his younger brother, did in fact, need to express himself other than through “crazed conspiracy theories” and “consistent knife tricks”. The over exhaustion and ache in his muscles also helped Keith catch up on required sleep; he had a habit of getting carried away by his research, and successfully forgetting to actually go to bed.

After feeling the simultaneous stings from his grazed, raw legs and knuckles, he let out a soft sigh of triumphant before making his way over to his duffle bag. Allura stood beside it, mocha arms crossed, watching Keith with a daring smirk on her face. The challenge in her eyes slightly twisted a knot in his stomach, suspicion thrumming behind his eyes.

“What?” He questioned with slight annoyance.

“You should check your twitter.” Was all she offered before turning to pack up her things.

Forehead creased, he pulled his phone out of his bag’s side pocket, instantly unlocking it and going into the app. Baffled was a word easily used to describe his face during that moment. How was it, that in a span of four hours, not only did his recent video blow up all over the internet, but was also on the app’s trending list? And why, exactly, did this happen?

Tweet after tweet, opinion after opinion, mention after mention, all Keith could do was stand in awe and observe as the situation shabbily unravelled. It appeared that his video caused quite the commotion; none of his previous videos received even a _fraction_ of this attention. He kept pulling down his screen, watching the new updates flood his feed, all variations of haphazard reactions to his video. Swiftly switching out of the app, he goes into his text messages, to find both Shiro and Adam’s awaiting texts.

_Shiro: Keith, we talked about this. It’s risky to do videos on a youtuber…(more)_

_Adam: Of course you decide to do a video on Lance McClain…(more)_

His chest clenched as a notification pops up from the top of his screen, cheeks flushed from overexertion – and because of a certain freckled charmer’s name, which Keith refuses to admit to –, it grasped his attention.

_@loverboylance has sent you a message._


	2. cult initiation process: t-posing everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I wasn't expecting all the love and supportive comments at all so believe me when I say that I squealed at every single one of them. I just wanted to say thank you for liking the story and actually taking the time to read it, these positive reactions make me excited to continue this story.

 

\- озадачивать -

 

Lance had just begun growing used to this: the constant mentions, the fervent and wholehearted attention, the need to interact with every single one of his _enthusiastic_ fans. Don’t get him wrong, he loves all of this, adores it even. He frequently gushed over supportive comments, skilful fan art and talented edits of him to Hunk and Pidge; in his opinion, everyone clearly had the talent but his friends often called him biased. The appreciation he felt enveloped him endlessly, resulting in him persistently trying to make sure all of his viewers knew this.

This whole YouTube thing, as one would call it, started out as a pure accident. Lance was staring at his dull, bare ceiling of his college dorm, feeling the utter need to do something _else_ other than kill his brain with all of the fresh, accumulating stack of information from all of his dreary classes. He had swung himself off the provided creaky, spring mattress and began looking through the photos on his laptop screen. He soon felt the spontaneous spur to gather all the footage he had collected – from a routine day out with his two best friends – and create a purely comedic, overly dramatized 10-minute video during one of his ‘boredom-strikes-again’ hours.

He decided to use one of Pidge’s illegally installed softwares – ‘ _trust me Lance, you’ll thank me for feeling generous’_ – and allowed himself to become immersed into the separate world of cinematic overlays, customised transitions and layered timelines. Watching and applying different pieces of information from various tutorials to his own project, soon blossomed into new-found eagerness thrumming through his hands as they worked every millisecond into the level of detail he was happy with. All of these ideas hustled around in his head, and when he finally caught one of them, it leads into a two-hour call with Pidge, begging and pleading her to download another illegal software that allowed him to create his own tunes.

After spending over 7 hours, with giddy exhilaration encouraging him to complete the video, he finally had the opportunity to watch over it as the finished product. Of course it definitely could’ve been better – maybe if he had used a more varied amount of beats in the background music instead of just a repetitive one or if he had used a different transition in this one scene where Hunk nearly trips over a tiny pebble – but he decided that for now, it was enough. With heavy, droopy eyes and a worn out grin, he renders the video and decides to break the news of his new creation to Hunk and Pidge.

Thrilled messages sent his way, he responds back with the slightly pixelated video – he was tired and was still trying to figure out how to use this software properly. When they came back with excited reactions and rushed responses, he caught a small idea rapidly whizzing through his head, telling him to put it up online. He entertained the idea for a little while, messaging his best friends, asking for their permission. Once he got the green light, he didn’t think twice.

That was when things had changed; with him posting weekly videos of silly adventures with his friends and spending a few hours of the little free time he had on editing. After posting his coming out video – two years of confusion tossing him back and forth during the journey of discovering another side of himself – he began to experiment with different makeup looks, sharing his trusted skincare routine since high school and even collaborating with other Youtubers. He had built a family online, with an infinite amount of loving, supportive messages on all of his videos, and it would spread a smile on his face on even the colder days. Younger Lance would be astounded by the way his life turned, for the better.

His phone lit up, the flicker of brightness bringing him back to the messages he had sent, unread and staring back at him.

 

_loverboylance: Hey man, was just looking through twitter when I found out about your video?_

_loverboylance: It’s nice that you took the time to put this together but what the hell dude? I know we weren’t on friendly terms back in high school but it’s a part of some unspoken rule to not spread rumours about your ex-classmates._

 

He _really_ tried not to come across as rash or angered – he still had a reputation to uphold, according to Hunk reminder – and tried to soften his words as best as he could.

“So has he responded yet?” Hunk questioned from the kitchen, forks and knives moving around on the stacked plates as he walked towards the couch.

“Not yet,” Lance blows out a huff, flinging his phone onto the couch, “this whole situation is ridiculous! Why did he make a video about me in the first place?! That’s not even the main reason why I’m mad. He didn’t even look at me during high school – _we were rivals and he didn’t want to get distracted by me, I get it_ – but why would he, out of nowhere, spend an hour talking about me being in a cult?” Lance paced along their carpet, vibrant contrasting colours playing with his vision.

“Lance, buddy–,“ Hunk tried to interject, but Lance dismissed it, barrelling on with his rant.

“And last I checked, I am _not_ in a cult. Keith _fucking_ Kogane and him thinking that he can do whatever he wants just because he _can,_ ” Lance pauses for a moment, hands suspended in the air before snapping his fingers in an ‘ah-ha’ manner, “I bet he still has that mullet he tried to rock even though that trend ended a decade ago and that stupid leather jacket he wore everywhere. Don’t get me started on those finger gloves.”

“Lance–,“ he continued to throw his hands around to emphasis every single word of his, ignoring Hunk, _again._

“How am I supposed to interact with my followers if all they’re going to ask me is if I really am in a cult? The comments on Allura’s video are all talking about the same thing and twitter is a mess right now. I can’t believe–,“ Lance was cut off from his irritated rambling.

“ _Lance._ ” Hunk sends him a pointed look.

He halts, body rigid and hands paused in an outward, dramatized mime. His best friend gestures to the spot next to him, patting it a little louder than usual to keep his attention. Lance lands on the couch with a loud sigh, placing his head on Hunk’s shoulder, all the fuel gradually seeping away.

“We need to wait for his reply, there’s no use in panicking now until he’s back online.” Hunk’s soft tone soothes the tension in his head.

“Yeah I know,” a defeated sigh leaves his lips, “I just hate waiting around like this.” Lance looks at their carpet – a gift from his mother when he had announced his moving into a new place with Hunk and Pidge, when he started earning a good enough amount of cash from his channel.

“I was planning to make some comfort tacos for dinner, wanna make them with me?” Hunk subtly nudges Lance’s shoulder, lightly chuckling at Lance’s enthusiastic nod.

“Yes! We haven’t had them in _weeks_ Hunk, how did I survive this long?” Lance jumps up, bolting to the kitchen to prepare the utensils, shoving Keith Kogane and his stupid self to the back of his head.

They don’t talk about the twitter outburst for the rest of the night.

 

\- паника -

 

The moment he twisted the knob to his apartment and stomped in, a familiar mixture of love-sick giggles and dry humour echoed the apartment. Taking note of the two regular, extra pairs of shoes at his door, Keith nudged his sneakers off, preparing to face his ‘father-like’ brother and his crude, exasperated fiancée. Drained from his session and constant badgering thoughts on how exactly he should reply back to ‘Lover Boy Lance McClain’, he registers an additional background sound that isn’t in their usual setting. The words gradually string themselves together, sounding a lot like something he’s heard before.

“As you can see here, he’s striking a pose that appears to be imitating Jesus on the cross. Not only does he begin to do this after he’s entered a store but seems to make sure that it’s in front of a large crowd of people," the voice sounds like something he’s _definitely_ heard before, "I’ve looked further into the pose and have found that it’s called ‘T-posing’ which, according to Urban dictionary, means to asset dominance. In some cases, this could be seen as just a dumb joke. But because he does it so many times, it makes you wonder why." Eyes growing comically wide, the words now digesting, processing.

_This better not be-_

"I’ve talked about the symbols that these cult members make to signify a type of union between them, and the initiation process to get in because you aren’t picked at random. You have to prove your loyalty. And in this guy’s case, it’s continuously t-posing everywhere he goes.” As the voice recording grows into a clearer tone rather than an echo, Keith thunders through the apartment, face flushed and scorching from embarrassment.

“What is this?” He demanded, fiery eyes striking a glare.

“Your recent video.” Adam smirked, arms lazily splayed on the top parts of the coach.

“Why are you watching it? _Here?_ ” He drops his duffle bag on the creaky wood next to him, arms shoved into a cross.

“Because Adam said that we needed to see why Twitter was ‘going crazy’,” Shiro pipes up from lying between Adam’s legs, fingers toying with the remote.

“Turn it down, I don’t want the neighbours complaining.” Discomfort clogged his throat, stirring up previous unease that had only just settled down.

“Go take a shower, we’ll talk after.” Keith, with awkwardness jolting his limbs, gives a brief nod before making a dash for his bathroom.

Flinging his damp shirt onto the tiles, he grasped the edges of his sink, reaching one hand to turn on the hot water; he still had a few minutes to allow his mind to spiral before washing the panic away. After listening to his own video – which he normally refused to do after posting it, because the mic makes him sound a little squeakier than he can stand – forced him to think about the person who just had to be the centre of everyone’s attention. Keith wasn’t apologetic; he was far from it actually. He was just thoroughly _conflicted_ with how to respond to Lance’s message.

Should he even respond at all? It would be a lot easier to let this simmer into ashes; it won’t be trending after a week anyway. He hadn’t even looked at the chat itself, he figured that he should respond once he’s in a more attentive mind state. At least he’ll be able to finish the conversation quickly and they can both move on from the outburst. He just wanted to carry on posting on his channel without all of this commotion latching on.

Letting the pressure of the nearly scalding water ease into his muscles, his mind subconsciously wandered to a ten-minute interview he had seen sometime during his research – it was one of the first interviews he had watched of the internet celebrity. It was a more general introduction video – when Lance had first started to gain attention – and they decided to question him on a range of personal fact questions. Keith took note of the finger tapping he did against the armrest of the couch, the buoyant grin that painted his face during the interview, the laugh that echoed through Keith’s ears a few hours after he had finished watching the video. His memory picked up on these tiny, irrelevant details, bundled them up into his own version of a video and played it during random moments of each day. Given that he had to grasp at straws, in order to make the theory sound convincing, the video involved a lot of research.

After going through his brisk routine, he threw on one of the only pairs of clean sweatpants and singlets he had – he really needs to take his stacked up clothes to the coin laundry down the street. Walking into the kitchen, he can hear distant chatter overlapping the video in the background. Eyes flickering between a salad – likely prepared by Shiro because ‘ _Keith, you really need to start eating healthier, instant ramen won’t cut it 15 years down the line’_ – and a family pack of Doritos and salsa, he decided to binge eat tonight. When he entered the living room, Adam and Shiro were still in the same spot, all their attention revolved around each other.

“If this is what you’re going to do, you can do this back at your place.” Keith grumbled, rolling his eyes as he took a seat at the opposite end of the couch.

“It’s okay loser, just make another video about Lance McClain and ask him out so you’ll stop complaining,” Adam arched a brow, amused smile earning an eye roll from Shiro and a sputtered response from Keith.

“All I’ve done was make was one video based on what the viewers wanted! It’s not like I asked for any of this in the first place.” Keith pointed out in an annoyed tone.

“Lance McClain out of all people? Keith, he’s literally one of top internet celebrities and you chose him? Of course it would blow up everywhere.” Adam subtly shook his head, one hand gesturing every word.

“I didn’t even know he existed until last week,” said Keith.

“You spend all of your time on the internet, how could you not have known?” Shiro watched the exchange carefully, wondering when would be a good time to jump in.

“Unlike you, I spend my time researching about the government and space.” Keith retorts, eyes flickering with cool fire.

“What Adam is _trying_ to say is what are you going to do now?” Shiro attempts to bring down the heat, neutral and practical tone glazing over the temperature.

“That’s not what I-.“ Shiro cuts him off with a soft poke to Adam’s thigh.

“He sent me a message earlier but I still haven’t responded.” Keith gnaws over the realisation that he will probably have to interact with him at _one_ point.

“It’s better if you talk to him soon, see how he reacts. You did make a video about him.” Shiro calmly mentions.

“I will.” Keith proceeds to shove a few chips with a heavy chunk of salsa into his mouth all at once.

“Don’t put it off. The more you do, the more conflict it’ll create.” Shiro chided, raising an eyebrow at Keith’s unhealthy eating choices.

“Okay _dad._ ” Shiro rolled his eyes, lifting the remote to the screen.

They spent another two hours watching the weekend marathon of movies, occasionally passing around the chips and salsa, as well as devouring two other packets. Keith felt the weariness heaving on top of him, eyes drooping and shoulders hunching over. Bidding a mumbled goodbye – and receiving tired responses – and battling a yawn, he made his way back to his room. Plopping head first onto his pillow, he let loose an inaudible sigh.

He glanced at the phone beside him, fatigue tugging him into a comfy position on his bed. He was going to message him back tomorrow; Shiro’s advice now fuelling him with tranquil determination. He just wanted this settled so he can stop worrying about his phone abruptly freezing and lagging due to the repetitive mentions from his twitter.

He also wanted to put Lance McClain behind him as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes, I promise that I had originally planned for the chat to be in this chapter but uh, clearly i wrote something else instead. I've also been hella busy this week, because of assessment weeks rolling up and me getting sick, and thus why I have posted today instead of yesterday. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter and remember to take care of yourself; rehydrate and eat!


	3. youtubers and their need for attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have an excuse for the lack of updates: school is the biggest pain in the ass and creativity killer, so accept this (still trying to get the hang of writing more than 100 words for a work and write coherent dialogues). also i don't hate youtubers at all lol; all of these words written are solely the character's thoughts, not mine.

 

\- ошибка -

 

The abrupt screech from his tap jolted him awake, all remaining drowsiness vanished. Sore from the shifty sleep and singeing anxiety that tossed him around, he felt the dread sink in once he spotted his phone on his way out from the bathroom. He had been pondering all night, trying to formulate a response that would make even Shiro proud and that would cause the least amount of trouble. This whole situation exhausted him already and he hadn’t even looked at his phone since last night.

Deciding that his starving stomach calling for attention was more important than the messy situation at hand, he had decided to raid the kitchen as quickly as he could, praying that he doesn’t run into Shiro or Adam – or god forbid the both of them – just in case they hadn’t left after the marathon. Swiftly glancing left and right, craning his neck as he ventured to the kitchen – with no evidence of the grossly adorable couple around – he made a grab for his instant noodles. This time they were the $4 ones, saved for special occasions like these, where emotional eating was the way to go.

After he finished microwaving his breakfast – ‘ _Keith, this isn’t breakfast, this is poison’, Adam would instantly point out_ – he walked back to his room, knowing that he couldn’t distract himself from the impending conversation. Setting down the bowl and unlocking his phone, he clicks onto the chat, startled by the messages in front of him. Even he could tell that this Lance guy was not happy, which made his skin itch.

Drafting and deleting, he couldn’t come up with a response that wouldn’t make him sound like an absolute asshole. He contemplated on asking Shiro for help – seeing as he was a relatively likable guy with a tendency to stay calm in majority of numerous stressful situation he had been in – before shaking off the thought. Allura would either laugh at his panic or nudge Keith to drop some cheesy pick-up lines to spin this into the start of a sickening rom-com. It was better to get this over and done with, without any help from anyone. He sends out a message without thinking twice.

_RedFighter101: There’s more to this than you’ve seen._

Keith instantly winces, about to type out another message which seemed less _vague_ when an immediate response pops up.  

_loverboylance: Oh yeah? Do tell smartass._

_loverboylance: I would love to find out the “whole” story._

He scoffs; he should’ve known. After all those theories he had covered, diving head first into all the data and research he sourced, that this guy was definitely not any different from the others. Typical egotistical YouTubers and their flawless “images”, forgetting that they’re not the only ones to exist. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the temptation to leave him on read disappeared, now replaced with brewing adrenaline.

_RedFighter101: If you really spent time looking through my account and actually watched the video, you’ll find that it was a theory sent by someone else. All I did was cover it._

_loverboylance: Have you seen what happened after that?! It’s a crazy mess, that YOU created._

_RedFighter101: I don’t see what the big problem is? More publicity for you._

_loverboylance: You’re kidding right? Why would I need this kind of publicity?_

_RedFighter101: For you people, any publicity is good publicity._

_loverboylance: You haven’t changed since high school, always thinking you were better than everyone else._

Keith stalled, thumbs frozen with a chill slithering down his back. He hadn’t kept in touch with anyone since he left high school; definitely didn’t have any friends other than his brother, Allura and even Matt – again, another one of Shiro’s friends that he’d met in their _last_ year. If he had any other friends, he would’ve remembered. That was the way he was; shadows were his blanket from the rest of the world at the time.

_RedFighter101: I don’t think we went to the same school._

_loverboylance: Wait, you don’t remember who I am? Lance from Garrison High?_

They had definitely gone to the same school then; no one online could’ve found out where he had come from, much less where he had gone to school.

_loverboylance: Lance and Keith? Neck and neck? Ring any bells?_

_RedFighter101: I don’t remember a lot of people from Garrison High._

_loverboylance: Unbelievable, you really don’t remember me?_

_RedFighter101: Was I supposed to?_

_loverboylance: Duh, we were r i v a l s._

_RedFighter101: I don’t remember you, sorry._

_loverboylance: Of course, classic Keith Kogane. Goes by his own rules and forgets about everyone else._

No wonder why he didn’t remember this guy; he puts the ~~attractive~~ assholes into the part of his brain where they would never pop up again. He had dealt with a few too many guys, during a time when heightened egos were thriving off popularity and status, and now could fluently identify them from any location. Which meant that this conversation should be finished off quickly; the sooner they stop talking, the faster he’ll be put at ease.

_RedFighter101: Look, are we done here? I’ve got somewhere to be and this is going nowhere._

_loverboylance: …_

_loverboylance: Yes, we are. I hope you have a terrible day._

Keith had decided – impulsively – to block him after receiving the message. His gut twisted – he couldn’t pin point why – before he brushed it off, getting ready for his session. The mixture of adrenaline and anger pushed him to train for three hours longer than he normally did.

 

\- влипнуть -

 

To put this lightly, Lance was trembling. To be specific, seething from the mind-boggling interaction he’d had with Keith – his first _real_ contact with the guy and it had turned out horribly. It left him reeling at the two things he’d learnt from that chat; Keith did not remember him or their rivalry and was a hot-headed, arrogant guy who had not an ounce of respect for anyone. He failed to compile what he felt into words, eligible words instead of high pitched gasps and indignant squeaks.

There was a distant boiling in his stomach; a silent grumbling voice in his head whispering into his ears, encouraging him to harbor this concoction of _god knows what_ with him, gradually fueling his anger and sensitising his senses. There was this itch spreading throughout his body, a certain need to do something to release these emotions before his insecurities start to speak up.

He had flung his phone onto the couch – too occupied with trying not to punch something – with his back turned, the clatter of his phone on the ground flew over his head. His head was buzzing, fingers wiggling and restless to clutch anything, mind blank from any thoughts whizzing around. He had barely registered Hunk and Pidge entering, with them plopping onto the couch and staring at their friend.

“Hey buddy, how’d it go?” Hunk questioned with slow caution – Lance was visibly fuming; closing and opening his mouth, hands flailing around feebly.

“I don’t think he can speak,” Pidge whispered, as if afraid to affect the scene in front of her.

He was silent, subconsciously pacing around the living room, phone on the floor. He was grasping at the logistics of the situation, figuring out what had happened whilst keeping his uncapped bottle of emotions from erupting and leaving a mess around him. The questions starting with ‘ _how_ ’, ‘ _why’_ and ‘ _what the fuck’_ swirled around, proving it hard to construct actual coherent sentences. An underlying headache was forming; he started to think about the painkillers he’ll need to swallow in a few minutes.

Lance knew he needed to get this out of his system; he spotted his phone out of his peripheral vision.

He did what he was known for; spilling his feelings out into tweets, disregarding who would be on the receiving end, letting others feed on and share what he feels. He called it establishing a connection and letting the world witness a few vulnerable parts to himself; others would scoff at the ability of being so open with the world. He picked up his phone off the floor – thanking whatever higher power saved him a hundred bucks for a screen repair – and clicked onto his most used app.

_@loverboylance: Who knew some people would stay the same after all of these years?_

Without paying much attention, he posts the tweet, brushing off Hunk and Pidge’s attempts at trying to talk to him. He felt the adrenaline seeping away, leaving him with barely any energy left to make proper conversation. A little part of him – which couldn’t live in denial – had hoped the conversation would result in a good turnout, that they could’ve reconnected. That maybe it would lead into a talk about high school, find out when he started his channel, what prompted it, maybe even have a mini bonding moment if it got to that point.

A sigh broke out, silencing his train of thought as he continued to scroll through his twitter. Bursts of retweets, comments and messages flooded his phone, downcast eyes blankly glancing over the mayhem. The mess that _he_ created; he was enjoying the positives throughout the days in which he had a break, from his hectic weeks, until Keith Kogane came _bursting through_ and then proceeded to attract attention no matter where he went.

Lance was torn between punching his pillow – he had once punched the fridge door, in a rapid burst of rage when they ran out of mango juice, and settled on punching softer things to avoid feeling the stinging throb of raw knuckles again – or bringing out his guitar to avoid live tweeting his frustration alongside numerous ominous messages.  

A startling ping grasped him out of his internal debate; the universe appeared to have made his decision for him.

 

_💖_ _Allura_ _:_ _Hello Lance!! I was in the area and was hoping if you wanted to meet up for some tea?? xx_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that happened.
> 
> kudos and comments will make my day if you're up for giving them :))
> 
> have a good day y'all and remember to take care of yourselves!!


	4. chai lattes and confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been doing some planning and have mapped out this fic - we have nearly reached the end of the first arc y'all. thank you for all the sweet comments and support! it's one of the only few things keeping me from going insane at this point.

 

\- oдновременно - 

 

Allura found this situation amusing – somewhat distressing but ridiculously _laughable._

She was leisurely strolling along the widespread, crisp green park – that was a walking distance from her place – when a gorgeous blend of redolent icing sugar and enriched powdered mocha flooded her soundless walk.

The chaos that came with being a well-known Youtuber was normal for her, having dealt with publicity since birth, it was nearly second nature. There was a somewhat steady flow in the way comment threads, likes and shares would create this synchronised rhythm whenever a new post was up – the stable cycle of social media. Once in a while, a troll would take to the internet and start a forest fire just by flicking a match into the serene atmosphere. Thankfully, the flames would begin to flicker after a day drifts by.

Eyes glancing from the café to the street sign in front of her, she pulled out her phone, scrolling to find her number one makeup enthusiast. It wouldn’t have been weird to click the call button; the first time they called, it was a 2am dilemma because ‘ _Allura, why isn’t lash glue strong enough to fix my life together’._ He had run out of garlic knots and found out one of his favourite shows were cancelled. She had begun to expect the more bizarre phone calls right after that.

After sending through an invitation, she made her way to the fragrant café. A little harmonic jingle from the door alerted her presence, her attention now on the bustling scene in front of her. There was an air of liveliness that brought out her excitement, her senses aching to try the selection they offered here. She hoped they had cinnamon buns.

Looking over the clear display of treats, she found herself a little lost in the whole atmosphere of the vibrant place.

“Good morning Miss,” a low, smoky voice spoke from the counter, snapping her out of her stupor.

“Hello, I would like a–.“ She cuts herself off once her gaze landed on the person in front of her.

“Lotor.” Surprise coloured her features as she took him in.

It had been a while since she had seen him, around two years give or take. They had definitely left on civil terms, wanting to leave behind their dislike for one another in their university days and be able to smile at one another if they ran into each other again. She hadn’t expected to see him ever again, if she was completely honest.

“You would have to wait until closing time then,” Lotor added a wink, expecting to see a scowl etched on her face.

With a chuckle – after being used to Lance’s antics – she replies, “We’ll see.”

“What would you like today?” Instead of a snobbish smirk, she was met with a genuine smile.

“A cinnamon bun and a spicy chai latte.” Today would be her cheat day, a break from the healthy foods.

“Haven’t changed at all, I see.” He wrote down the order with a deep chuckle, eyes flickering over to her as he does so.

“Neither have you.” She was, to say the least, caught off guard with how pleasant the conversation was.

A stark contrast to how their exchanges went a few years ago.

“I’ll bring your order out to your table. The corner seats are good for alone times; the cushioned ones are good for meet-ups.” She reaches into her wallet, pouch glittering from being caught by the hanging bulbs on the ceiling.

“On me,” she nearly interjects before he rushes to carry on, “Please, consider this as payback for those brownies you brought to our club meetings.”

“If you insist,” she smiles before adding on, “Next time, I’ll pay.”

His eyes soften, expression kind and sincere. She wanted to stick around, catch up and find out what he had been up to since they had gotten their degrees. He had startled her, not only by finding him here of all places but with the way he acted now. As the person she had hoped he’d be when they first shook hands.

She’d made her way over to the cushioned seats, making sure to face the door so she could easily spot Lance.

Her and Lotor’s relationship were fixed from the moment they were in diapers, reputations set up for them with a rulebook full of expectations and requirements to maintain their strained connection. With their fathers having an unsteady past together, it was obvious that their kids would face the same fate. Well-respected businessmen who were civil competitors with one another, their expectations whipped their kids up into shape; her and Lotor never knew how to be friends because competing for the top of the class were all they had known. This complemented the judgmental first impressions Allura had of the boy; he was a self-righteous, uptight snob who bathed in daddy’s money and was enrolled into their university for the same reasons nearly everyone else was.

They had taken advantage of growing up sleeping on stacks of cash, not for genetic ambition.

A plate and mug were set down in front of her, interrupting her momentary indulgence in the past.

“Don’t hesitate to call for more.” She caught a whiff of a familiar designer men’s cologne as he strode off – some things really don’t change.

She took in the sight of sugary, milky drizzle on top of the rich amber pastry and heart-shaped powdered chestnut spice on her chai latte. A small smile – accompanied by a subtle blush at the corners of her cheeks – made their way on her face.

“How’s my favourite pearl doing?” The empty chair opposite her scraped across the floor and a casual smirk looked backed her.

“Are you saying that you have more than one?” Allura tossed back, practice now trained her to be quick with her responses.

A chuckle escapes Lance, his eyebrows slightly arched in surprise, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re the only one there is.”

 

She rolled her eyes, annoyed expression betrayed by the easy smile on her face. Lance had picked up on her playfulness, eyes glancing down to her breakfast.

“Started without me?” His eyes lit up with mischief, body angled to support his arm circling the edge of his chair.

“For all I knew, you would’ve taken an hour doing your hair and I was starving.” She pointed out and took a bite of her bun, nearly scoffing at his indignant gasp.

“I’ll be back and no, I won’t take longer than five minutes.” Lance sends her a scowl before walking off to the counter, watching his and Lotor’s interaction in amusement.

A ping from her left catches her attention, eyes glancing over the notification.

_MothBoy: Meet me with boxing gloves in 15_

_Allura: I’m out with a friend, maybe later tonight?_

_MothBoy: Ok, c u at usual time_

_Allura: Be prepared to get thrown down ;)_

_MothBoy: You wish_

Allura was counting on a fun session tonight, especially once she finds out what happened between the two boys. She had an inkling that they might have said something to the other – knowing their impulsive tendencies that go hand in hand with their rash thought process – but then again, they were both afraid of direct confrontation when it involved the public. It was their ability to be absolutely clueless that landed them in this situation in the first place.

“Texting a secret lover?” Lance’s teasing tone poked at her as he walked back to their table.

“Just a friend asking to hangout,” she said nonchalantly, taking a sip from her warm mug.

“And you ditched them for me? You shouldn’t have.” He makes a slap-away gesture, hand subconsciously circling his phone screen.

“Maybe I should reconsider.” She points a finger at her phone, raising an eyebrow.

“So, what are you doing in this part of the city?” He chose to brush off her response, switching his attention to the toasted sandwich and ivory white mug.

“I always come here for walks and I’ve heard that there’s a good skincare shop around here.” A part of her was itching to find out what had happened, the other chastised her for being impatient.

“Is it the one around the corner? They sell really good face masks; it really helps with the sensitive skin.” She watched him stir his drink; it was clear that he was distracted.

Better to coax out his answer before he fully shuts down.

“Have you been on the internet lately?” She waited till the words sunk in, watching him shift in his seat until his arms came to rest in front of him.

“Who hasn’t? It’s a big mess right now.” Teasing confidence seeped out of him; she almost regretted bringing up the topic.

“Are you okay? I know how overwhelming it can get.” Her voice was a lot softer now – she stretched her hands out slightly as if to show her support without touching him just yet.

“It’s not just that. You’ve seen the video right,” he waited for her nod and continued, “Well this guy whom I knew in high school made it. I’m not even mad about the video or everyone’s reactions afterwards; I actually would’ve laughed if it was made by another person.” He visibly falters, gradually sinking into himself as if the admission itself hurt him.

She found it hard to not let her eyebrows spring up at the new information, but Lance didn’t take note of her baffled expression as he carried on.

“We were rivals throughout school,” he quietly interjects – _well I thought we were_ – which she’s positive wasn’t meant for her ears, “and we never talked much either. I mean, that makes sense, but we haven’t seen each other since. It’s just, this happens out of the blue and then I tried reaching out to him, and then it turns out badly. Okay, to be fair, my message could’ve been seen as _a bit rude_ but I had every right to be!” She could see the hurt from earlier morphing into a more unsteady annoyance.

“It’s been what, three years, four now? And he decides to pull something like this? Just when everything was going well and I was getting the hang of it all. I haven’t even checked Instagram, much less Twitter,” he paused, taking a sip before throwing one hand in the air, “I can’t even remember what he looks like! Except for that mullet he was wearing – now _that_ was a disaster. Everything just feels all over the place and I’m not sure what to do next.” He exhaled, as if the relief seeped in once he opened up his suitcase of emotions and let her peek into the stacks of thrown around feelings he carried with him constantly.

She chose to stay silent, using her lack of speech as a pathway for him to reveal more if he wanted to. She had decided to steer clear of her and Keith’s history for now; Lance’s more prone to having an outburst if he were to find out now.

It also wasn’t that Allura and Keith’s friendship was a secret – it was far from it actually. If people scoured back to the start of both of their accounts, they would see the group photos with them, Shiro and Matt – long before Adam came into the picture. These days, they found it easier to keep their friendship on the down low to avoid any unwanted attention from prying eyes that distantly circulated her. It also would’ve been problematic for both of their accounts because of the part of her fan base who’re more than willing to sink their claws into any male figure in her life – her dad, Alfor, and uncle, Coran, being the exceptions.

It was also entertaining to witness how these two bumbling – she sincerely loved both of them – idiots were going about their situation. Having been used to the burden of watching eyes and viewers of Keith’s theories, it was easy to forget how someone, who’s new to this unrelenting attention, would feel claustrophobic under the weights of this vying attention. She felt an impulse to offer her support, to let the eccentric boy in front of her know that her shoulder was there for his frustrated tears if it came to it.

“It’s not easy, being watched by all of those people online and expected to have it together all of the time,” she took in a breath, shifting her focus onto Lance from her cup. “The attention becomes a lot at times and it’s okay if you feel like that. The internet can be a wonderful place to connect with people and it always makes me happy seeing my fans put effort into watching me and actually loving what I do. It brings me genuine joy when I can help make someone’s day through my videos.” A smile played along the edges of her lips as the numerous amounts of direct messages, tweets, reblogs, comments and likes dance around in her head.

Allura softly exhaled as she decides to tip over her bottle of emotions, wanting to share the buried burden of watchful viewers with someone who wasn’t her family. She, herself, hadn’t realised how much she wanted to screw open the tap.

“There was a time, back when I had just discovered what mascara and lip gloss were,” she hears snickering from opposite her and throws a pointed glare at the Cuban boy, “ _Lance, now is literally not the time to laugh –_ and I was experimenting with different looks, because, out of sheer curiosity. Deciding that after 2 failed attempts, at fourteen, I recorded a fifteen-minute video on how to properly apply ‘makeup’ and posted it. And no, I didn’t edit it- I didn’t even know what iMovie was!” She protested, attempting to defend her poor pre-teen choices.

“Anyway, I didn’t really think about what would happen after that – it was something I wanted to do and I just did it. Within the next week, I had my first real taste of the bad side of the internet. Hate comments were piling, from ‘daddy’s little trash’ to ‘stay in your bed of cash, don’t come here’, I took it all in. It definitely was a hard thing to take in at the time but I got through it, with the help of my family. What I’m trying to say is that you’ve got a support system around you to help you through this mess, and you don’t have to feel like you need to carry this all on your own.” She took in his hands, that were wounded tightly around his cup, and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You are so strong, confident and fierce, how did I end up with such an amazing best friend like you?” Lance’s voice wobbled, hands squeezing hers back.

“Right back at you.” They shared a smile, the one exchanged between two best friends with a tight bond that only became stronger over time.

Lance let out a loud sigh, using his body to exaggerate the movement and then started to loosely shake his shoulders before looking to her and saying, “Thank you ‘Lura. I think I’ll just try to act normal online for now and then see how it goes, might even go on a livestream later tonight.”

“You haven’t done one in a while.” Allura found herself looking behind Lance, watching Lotor interact with a customer that had just walked in, trying to pay attention to Lance at the same time.

“More of a reason to do it right?” She watched the interaction, fighting back a smile as he laughed – this one battled against the snarky bark he used to let out whenever he had received the desired reaction from her after pulling one of his ridiculous pranks.

“But people will be asking in the comment section, isn’t that what you’re trying to avoid?” The question acted as an automatic response as she continued to observe the way he spun around behind the counter, brewing coffee and shaking up the concoction before pouring it into another minimalistic yet elegant mug.

“I’ll think of something to stop that from happening. Also I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s the story with the hot cashier at the counter?” Her attention snapped back to the smirking boy, smile instantly vanishing at his teasing question, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the ogling.”

A splash of pink tainted her cheeks as she looks back at Lance with surprised eyes, thankful that her voice doesn’t wobble when she says, “Just an old friend that I went to university with.”

“Huh.” Was all Lance offered before turning around to fix his attention on the person behind the counter.

Judging by his lack of response and teasing tone earlier, she knew he was going to do something that would’ve set her face on fire.

“Could you show me some of the face masks you’d recommend? I was hoping to find a few new ones to experiment with.” She tried not to let out a triumphed smile when Lance swivelled around with a grin.

“There are so many to choose from!” He glances at his phone for a moment, “The shop doesn’t close for another four hours but I wanna show you around this part of the city first. Get ready for the time of your life.” He throws his hands in the air into a jazz hands motion before throwing a smirk her way.

She let out a loose chuckle before dramatically carrying on with, “Lead the way.”

She gathers her things, making her way past the counter, pausing before turning around bid her friend goodbye. He was already watching her, sending a wave.

“Until next time princess,” he says suavely; she willed herself to maintain her composure at the age-old nickname.

“See you soon Loturd,” she threw back her nickname for him, watching his smirk flicker into a scowl before chuckling lightly.

She leaves the place with a fond smile and newfound want to return. Lance nudges her shoulder knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows and mischievous smirk. She pushes at his shoulder and waved his non-verbal teasing off. It would definitely be intriguing to see how everything will turn out – with him and Keith of course, not Lotor at all.

 

\- подождать и увидеть - 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe i should just turn this into a Lotura fic instead?  
> (i kid, i kid)  
> hope y'all enjoyed the chapter and make sure that you're taking care of yourself! use this as a reminder to drink some water, eat some food and rest your eyes (mine need a lot of rest at this point).

**Author's Note:**

> literally thought of this at 12am, half-asleep and in love with the Youtuber AU from Klance AU Month. I also hope no one has done this yet lmao, because i'm planning to write more of this.  
> hope you enjoy!  
> comments and kudos if you're feeling it :)  
> find me on tumblr: sunflowertouches


End file.
